


Boys Will Be Boys

by magisterpavus



Series: Voltron NSFW Week [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Apologies, Arguing, Awkward Flirting, Begging, Companionable Snark, Dirty Talk, Edgeplay, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Riding, Rivalry, god im so glad that's a tag that exists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 10:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11965827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterpavus/pseuds/magisterpavus
Summary: There’s blood in his mouth, blood dripping from his nose, blood in his hair from where Keith fuckingscratchedhim, blood boiling in his veins and clouding his vision with red. There’s too much blood for a friendly sparring session, that’s for sure.This isn’t a friendly sparring session, not anymore.(DAY 6: FIGHT/MAKE UP)





	Boys Will Be Boys

**Author's Note:**

> ah, i missed writing these two....more klance tomorrow~
> 
> support me on tumblr [@saltyshiro](http://saltyshiro.tumblr.com/)

There’s blood in his mouth, blood dripping from his nose, blood in his hair from where Keith fucking _scratched_ him, blood boiling in his veins and clouding his vision with red. There’s too much blood for a friendly sparring session, that’s for sure.

This isn’t a friendly sparring session, not anymore.

He doesn’t know what flipped the switch, just knows that somewhere along the line, both of them started beating the absolute shit out of each other. Lance is angry. He doesn’t even know _why_ , just knows that whenever he sees Keith’s stupid face he wants to punch it again.

Lance’s skin doesn’t bruise easy but Keith’s does and there’s a purplish red stain blooming around his left eye and his knuckles are covered in contusions, and it’s _bad_ , Keith looks like shit and Lance bets he’s not much better. He has a split lip and a sore hip from where Keith slammed him onto the ground, limping as he stumbles back to his feet because Keith kicks _hard_. They’re both fighting dirty and neither of them cares.

Lance spits blood onto the floor and Keith glares at him, hands clenched into fists and hair mussed where Lance grabbed a handful of it and pulled earlier. “You done yet?” Lance pants, the two of them circling each other, tense and shaking with adrenaline. “You had enough?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Keith bites out, hair hanging in his face like a madman, sweat shining on his face and bare arms, heat flushing white skin pink.

“What’s wrong with _me?!_ You’re the one who started it!” Lance retorts. He doesn’t actually remember who started it. But it was probably Keith. Keith is always starting shit, the guy has some serious anger management issues, but maybe Lance shouldn’t be talking when Keith has a black eye because of him.

“ _You_ started it!” Keith snaps, seething, his eyes bright and feverish. Keith has pretty fucking eyes, shining purple-gray-blue with long black lashes and noticing it just makes Lance angrier.

“Did not!”

“Did too! You said it was my fault that the Galra ship found us, and everyone knows you just sided with Allura because you have a stupid hopeless crush on her, but guess what, it’s never gonna happen because you’re such an annoying dick all the time!” Keith hisses.

“Fuck off!” Lance throws another punch. Keith barely dodges and catches Lance’s arm, sending them both toppling to the ground with a loud, painful _thud_. “You said I was ruining the team!”

“Because you are!” Keith growls, shoving at him. Lance flinches and knees him hard in the gut. “You never listen to Shiro’s orders, you always try to go off and do your own thing, you put everybody at risk because you act like an idiot!”

“Oh, _I’m_ the idiot?! I’m not the one who stole one of the escape pods in the middle of the night and ditched everybody!”

“I was _trying_ to help the team!” Keith retorts. “I was trying to think about someone other than myself, which we all know is impossible for you!”

Lance snarls and hooks a leg around Keith’s calf, flipping the Red Paladin hard onto his front and pinning him to the floor, holding his left arm behind his back as Keith struggles and kicks out, boot connecting with his shin and sending a shockwave of pain through him. Lance doesn’t let go, though.

“Like you’re not the most selfish person on the team!” Lance argues. “You were ready to leave Allura for dead when she got captured! All you _care_ about is defeating the damn Galra, so don’t be a fucking hypocrite and pretend like you care about any of us except Shiro! I bet you’d sell us all out in a second just to save _him!_ ”

“Take that back,” Keith gasps, thrashing under him harder. “I wouldn’t – fuck, Lance, augh!”

Lance is holding Keith’s arm too tight, twisting it the wrong way, he knows this distantly, but he can’t stop himself now. He’s hurting Keith, but Keith hurt him too, and then Keith spits, “At least I care about what we’re fighting for! At least I understand that we have a job to do here and I don’t want to go running back to Earth like a coward just because I’m homesick!”

“Shut the hell up,” Lance warns, head and heart pounding furiously. “Don’t fucking talk about home or families like you have any fucking idea what those mean, Keith!”

“Then don’t talk about being a Paladin like you have any idea what that means, Lance!” Keith retorts, and Lance twists his arm harder and Keith _screams_ , the crack of a bone breaking splitting through the air. It jolts Lance back to his senses, and he releases Keith as if burned, horrified, Keith’s wrist bent at the wrong angle.

He only has a second to be sorry, though, because then Keith whirls around and kicks him right in the ribcage, the hard heel of his boot connecting firmly with Lance’s chest. Lance stumbles and goes down with a wheeze of pain, clutching at his side, carajo, yeah; something’s definitely broken in there.

There are footsteps from the hall and then all the others are running in to investigate their shouting, great, now they’re gonna get lectured and Lance is so not in the mood, his head hurts and his ribs ache real bad and his split lip stings as he struggles to draw in breath. Keith’s not much better, slumped over, gingerly holding his right arm as his broken wrist dangles. There’s a smear of blood on the floor. Lance feels like he’s gonna throw up.

Allura is yelling, and then stops, gasping in shock. Hunk jogs over, eyes wide and worried and of course he goes to Lance first, whispering, “Hey, buddy, oh man, you don’t look too good – what’d Keith do to you?!”

And Lance wants to say, _no, I hurt him too, his wrist, he needs help,_ but Shiro’s already at Keith’s side. He hears Keith hiss when Shiro looks at his wrist and Shiro’s voice has a low, disappointed tone to it and Lance sees Keith wince, brows drawing together, his expression miserable. Coran is saying something about healing pods. Lance’s head spins when Hunk tries to help him up and Pidge yelps and runs forward as he sways and falls, hitting his head hard and blacking out.

*

Lance wakes up as the healing pod opens, gasping in a lungful of fresh breath and stumbling into Hunk’s arms. “Where’s Keith?” is the first thing he says. For some reason. Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought.

Hunk looks confused, too. “Uh…Keith’s in his room resting, he got out of the pod before you, but –”

“Is he okay?”

Hunk blinks. “Dude, you broke his wrist and gave him a huge black eye. And he broke two of your ribs! I think there’s something seriously not okay with both of you, honestly, what were you guys even thinking?”

“We weren’t,” Lance sighs. “We were just…mad. I guess. Boys will be boys, y’know?”

Hunk gives him a flat look. “You know that’s not an excuse, Lance. Me and Shiro are boys and we don’t pummel each other with our fists when we get into petty arguments.”

Lance hangs his head. “Yeah. I know. Bet Keith’s really mad at me, huh?”

Hunk shrugs. “Dunno, why don’t you go and ask him? As long as you feel like you can stop yourself from getting into a dumb fight with him again.”

“Believe me, I don’t want to do that again,” Lance says, shuddering at the memory. “It was scary; we were both…way too into it.”

“Yeah, there was a lot of blood,” Hunk says, frowning at him. “Lance…I know you and Keith have your differences, but…I also know that you admire him, and as much as you say he’s your rival, I don’t think he’s ever seen it that way. He’s a talented pilot and you’re a talented sharpshooter, y’know? You both have your own things. You don’t need to fight over who’s better, or whatever.”

“You think I should try to talk to him?”

Hunk nods. “He might not want to, but it’s worth a shot. Just…apologize. Okay? And see what happens from there.”

“Okay,” Lance says. “Well…here goes nothing.”

*

He knocks on Keith’s door after a mental minute-long pep talk. Thank God nobody had walked past him during that, or it would’ve been super embarrassing. After all, it isn’t like Keith is a scary monster or anything. He’s just a moody guy with pretty eyes who is unfairly good at everything but socialization. Whereas Lance is unfairly bad at most things except socialization. Huh. Maybe they aren’t so different after all. _Opposites attract, and all that crap,_ he tells himself.

There’s silence from within Keith’s room. He hesitates, and knocks again. “Keith? Buddy? It’s me, Lance. I just wanted to, um, apolog –”

The door opens. “What,” Keith says, his tone neutral but eyes guarded, arms folded. His hair is messy but slightly damp-looking, like he’d just showered. It’s slightly wavy when wet. It’s…it’s cute. Lance doesn’t know when he’d started to associate words like “cute” with Keith, but uh, there it is. Keith raises his eyebrows, still waiting.

Lance takes a deep breath. “I wanted to say sorry,” he repeats. “For punching you in the face and breaking your wrist. That was…uncool of me. So, I’m sorry. And I hope you’re feeling better.”

Keith blinks, uncertain. “Um,” he says. “You…too.”

Lance stares at him. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

Keith bites his lip, scratching his head and awkwardly gesturing. “Do you want to come in?”

Lance huffs. “Well, I dunno, are you gonna apologize too if I do?”

Keith sighs. He looks, and sounds, really tired. “I think maybe we should talk.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lance says, and cautiously walks in, the door sliding shut behind him. He’s never really been in Keith’s room before, he realizes, which is…weird. They’ve been on this ship for months, and he’s never been in Keith’s room. And Keith has never been in his.

Keith’s room is mostly bare; the dude hasn’t done much to make it homey. There are no walls covered in thumbtacks and scraps of paper and string, anyway. Keith’s bed is half-made, his jacket on the floor beside it in a sort of half-folded crumple of fabric. He has a few books on top of the clothing chest; they look old and weird. There are a couple metal crates Keith must have taken from a storage room on the ship; they have some odds and ends in them, and Keith’s Galra knife (sword? Was it a sword now?) is propped up against one.

Keith clears his throat. There’s nowhere to sit, so they just stand. Awkwardly, facing each other, neither one wanting to start talking.

“So,” Keith says, going for it and immediately looking like he regrets it. “I’m sorry, too. Shiro said I broke a couple of your ribs. Must’ve hurt.”

“It did. Not as much as a broken wrist though, I bet.”

Keith shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Broken collarbone is worse. It’s okay. I get hurt a lot; I have a high pain tolerance. I guess.”

“That doesn’t make what I did okay,” Lance insists. “We both got too carried away, and we can’t fight like that again, agreed?”

“You’re not…angry with me?” Keith’s brow creases. “I thought you’d be angrier.”

“I think I used up all my anger fighting you,” Lance chuckles, strained but honest. “We both said some pretty awful stuff, so…if you’re willing to just forget it all and put it behind us, I think that might be for the, uh, best…Keith, what are you…doing…?”

Keith steps forward, into his space, brow lowered, eyes very focused; almost creepily focused in their intensity. “Lance, I want you to know that I didn’t mean anything I said. I know you miss your family and you’re right, I have no idea what that feels like, so…I shouldn’t have said what I said, but I did, and I’m so sorry for that.”

Lance swallows, fighting the urge to take a step back – Keith is so close that he can practically count the dude’s eyelashes. His hair _is_ wet, Lance notes distractedly. Lance’s throat is very dry, and when he licks his lips nervously he swears Keith’s eyes flicker down to his mouth for a moment before hastily flicking back up.

“Thanks,” Lance says, voice embarrassingly unsteady. “I, uh, I know you wouldn’t actually sell any of us out for Shiro. That was a really fucked up thing to say, and I’m really sorry too.”

“It’s okay,” Keith says, biting his lip, and Lance has to _physically restrain_ himself from looking at Keith’s mouth, what the heck is this sorcery, Lance holds it together just fine in front of all the hot space babes they meet and now he’s crumbling in front of _Keith_ , the same Keith who doesn’t know what moisturizer is and showers by far the least out of them all.

 _But he just showered now,_ his brain supplies very unhelpfully.

“Lance,” Keith adds, quieter, “you _are_ a Paladin. You’re part of this team, part of our team, and we… _I_ am glad. That you are. Because I know Shiro and I are close but I care about all of you guys. I care about you.”

Lance needs to sit down, or leave, or maybe stick himself into a wormhole to scream into the abyss of space because _holy shit_. Keith cares about him. “I care about you too,” Lance blurts, because apparently he’s not so gifted at the whole socialization thing after all. “Uh. I mean. As a, um, friend.”

Keith smiles. He’s still too close, and his smile is disarmingly beautiful. Keith doesn’t smile a lot. Lance fervently wishes he would. “Good,” he says. “Friends are…good.”

“Better than rivals,” Lance jokes weakly.

Keith tilts his head. “I don’t think we were ever rivals, Lance.” Is it Lance’s imagination, or does Keith sound kind of flirty and breathy and…is he _blushing_?!

“Dude, are you blushing?” Lance asks, because he’s definitely never seen Keith do that before. And also, the tension in the air is so thick you could cut it with a knife, and Lance tends to say stupid shit in tense situations. He just hopes Keith doesn’t punch him again.

Keith doesn’t punch him. He blushes more. “I…am I? It feels kinda warm in here.” He fiddles with the hem of his shirt and bites his lip harder.

“No,” Lance says, not knowing where this confidence is coming from at all because his heart is pounding in his chest as he takes a step closer to Keith. “It’s not warm in here. Why are you blushing?”

Keith looks away, shoulders hunched. “Lance…” He sounds almost pleading.

Lance tells himself that he can live with the horrible, awkward fallout if this goes south and reaches out to cup Keith’s face, tipping it back up to look at him. Keith’s eyes go comically wide, but he doesn’t jerk away. He’s definitely looking at Lance’s mouth now. “You’re cute when you blush,” Lance says, and luckily he’s stopped from saying anything cornier by Keith’s mouth mashing clumsily against his own.

Keith is a terrible kisser. Lance considers himself a decent kisser at best, given that his only past kisses were with two fairly drunk girls at parties, and he was drunker than them, so it wasn’t exactly a great learning experience. 

Lance isn’t drunk at all now, though, and already that makes it better – he grabs for Keith’s hair without even thinking and it’s thick and startlingly soft, damp in his palm as he cups the back of Keith’s head and tries to salvage the kiss by angling their heads differently. Keith resists the movement at first, their noses bumping and teeth clacking, until he opens his mouth to Lance’s and suddenly Lance wants to do a lot more than kiss him.

Keith clutches at Lance’s shirt, tugging him closer, breath hot and body even more so, in both senses of the word. Lance has a hand on Keith’s jaw and the other slides around his waist, not realizing the movement brings their hips together. Keith makes a soft noise against his tongue and wraps an arm around Lance’s neck, a little too forcefully, sending them stumbling off-balance and towards the bed.

Lance is not opposed to this course of action. Keith falls first as the backs of his knees hit the mattress, and Lance lands heavily on top of him, bed bouncing slightly under the impact. Lance peers down at Keith, who looks a little dazed; his freshly washed hair all messed up again. “Um,” Keith says, looking down, and then back at Lance’s face, pinker than before. Lance realizes he’s straddling Keith’s hips, and that they’re both…pretty into this situation.

Speculatively, he shifts around a little. Keith gasps and grabs at his waist.

Lance smirks. “You’re hard.”

“Yes, and so are you, your point?” Keith manages, flustered and cuter than ever.

Lance leans over him, bracing his hands on Keith’s chest which rises and falls unevenly under them. “You wanna do something about it, or do you want me to leave and pretend this never happened?”

Panic flashes over Keith’s face and Lance feels…really bad about it, actually. “No!” Keith exclaims, fingers tightening on his waist. “I don’t – don’t leave. Please. If…unless you want to leave?”

“Obviously I don’t want to leave,” Lance says, pecking his lips.

“It’s not that obvious,” Keith retorts defensively, expression uncertain. “I thought you only liked girls.”

“Why would I limit myself to just girls?” Lance jokes. Keith frowns. “Hey, not my fault most of the hot people we’ve met in space so far have been of the female variety, dude.”

“That’s not true,” Keith argues. “Thace is hot.”

Lance makes a strangled sound. “Keith, que carajo, you’re a fucking furry, I knew it!”

Keith scrunches up his nose. “What’s a furry?”

Lance is having a moment. “Although, I guess you’re a furry by default, what with the whole Galra thing, but I didn’t know you were actually into other Galra –”

“I’m not _into_ Thace,” Keith says, looking very confused now, “I just think he’s attractive? Is that not allowed? Are you…jealous?”

“Do _you_ have fur?!” Lance demands.

Keith opens his mouth, then closes it. “Uh…not as far as I know…? Lance, are you alright?”

“Does wanting to fuck you make me a furry, too?” Lance whispers in horror.

“Wait, what?” Keith says. “You want to do _what_?”

Lance pauses, sets aside the furry dilemma, and grins. “I wanna fuck you,” he says. “Duh.”

“Like…right now?” Keith looks slightly freaked out. Lance backpedals.

“Well – no, not necessarily, I guess we just kissed so that might be moving way too fast but, we’re both hard, and I asked if you wanted to do something about that and it seemed like you did but –”

“No, no, I don’t care about moving too fast,” Keith says impatiently, sitting up. “Why do you get to be the one doing the fucking?”

“Uh,” Lance says, and gives him a pointed look. Keith stares back at him blankly. “I’m taller!”

Keith says, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?”

“That’s not how that _works_ , Lance, plus you’re like, two inches taller, tops!”

“Heh,” Lance says, “tops.”

Keith pushes him onto his back and Lance starts squirming. “Hey! What’re you – mmph.”

Keith is becoming a better kisser at an alarmingly fast rate. His tongue is hot and wet against Lance’s and he’s grinding their hips together, slow and halting but it feels good, Lance can’t remember the last time he was this hard. It sure beats jacking off alone in the dark with his sounds muffled by his fist.

Lance supposes he’s known all along that Keith’s attractive, but it was more annoying than anything else when they were at the Garrison – just another thing Keith had going for him. Now…now, Lance can appreciate it. His hands on Keith’s back wander down to squeeze his ass and _yeah_ , Lance is very appreciative.

Keith breaks the kiss and glares down at him. “You may be taller, but I’m older.”

“So, what difference does that make?” Lance snaps, although Keith sort of has a point. Only sort of. “We’re both equally virgins, aren’t we?”

“I…yeah. I guess so.” Keith sits back on his heels, and now he’s straddling Lance’s hips, and it’s a sight Lance could get used to. “Okay, well, um, have you ever fingered yourself?”

Lance didn’t think of that one. “Uh…no.” His eyes widen. “Wait, have you?”

“Goddammit,” Keith sighs. “Yes. A couple times. Okay maybe more than a couple times.”

Lance grins up at him. “So, you got this, then!”

Keith rolls his eyes. “I’m seriously considering taking your offer of leaving and forgetting this ever happened.”

“Why, ‘cause you _don’t_ want me to fuck you? C’mon, how could you not want a piece of this?” Keith looks at the door, then at him, eyebrow arched. “Keeiith, buddy, it’ll be great, I promise.”

“Why won’t you even consider switching?” Keith snaps. “Are you seriously that close-minded?”

Lance blinks. “I wasn’t…it’s not like that, I’m sure it would be…pretty good if you fucked me, too. But I _really_ wanna fuck you, Keith. Really, really.”

Keith exhales hard through his nose. He still doesn’t look fully convinced.

Lance has a sudden stroke of inspiration. “Which one of us has a bigger dick?”

Keith furrows his brow, nonplussed. “Is the one with the bigger dick the one who gets to be on top? Or is it the other way around?”

“Why would it be the other way around?”

“Less pain?” Keith suggests.

“I thought you said you had a high tolerance for pain,” Lance drawls. Keith flicks his face and scowls. Lance is pretty sure he deserves it.

Keith looks more onboard with this idea than Lance’s other criteria, though. “Whatever, fine, we can compare although I really doubt there’s gonna be a huge difference…”

Lance unzips his pants; he doesn’t need any more invitation. After a moment Keith follows suit, shifting off of him so they can both wrestle their pants and boxers off. And then it feels stupid to be pantsless while wearing a shirt, so they take those off too, and wow, Lance is naked in Keith’s bed with naked Keith. Wow.

They sit next to each other and look.

“Aw,” Lance says, disappointed.

Keith grits his teeth. “What _now_?”

“You have a normal dick,” Lance says.

Keith gives him a flat look. “Lance, hate to break it to you, but you do too.”

“I was kinda expecting like, a furry purple Galra dick or something,” Lance admits. “Or, I mean, we don’t know what Galra have down there, could be…other stuff.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh my god, Lance,” Keith says, despairing. “No! Everything is – my genitals are very human, thank you very much.”

“Boring,” Lance says. “Anyway, mine is longer.” By like, a few centimeters, but it fucking _counts_ , okay.

“Mine is thicker,” Keith counters, and coño, he’s right. “Which measurement counts as ‘bigger’?”

“Length,” Lance says immediately.

“I dunno, I think I read somewhere that girth matters more,” Keith mumbles thoughtfully.

“Keith, nobody is like, ‘oh that guy’s dick was so big, it was like six inches in circumference!’ They say, ‘oh that guy’s dick was so big, it was like a foot long!’”

“Your dick isn’t that big,” Keith says, peeved. Lance flicks his face, this time. Keith barely reacts; he’s too busy thinking about dicks. “Is anybody’s dick that big?”

“Maybe a Galra dick is…” Lance muses.

“If you say Thace, I will kick you out,” Keith warns.

“I was gonna say Sendak, actually, bet his is like _two_ feet –”

Keith tackles him onto the bed. And, naked tackling? It’s a little different than clothed tackling. Lance barely breathes as Keith settles over him, and thinks blurrily that he really wouldn’t mind if Keith fucked him. He doesn’t care who does what, suddenly, because all he feels is _want_ , hot and urgent like his cock where it nudges against Keith’s.

But Keith says, “Okay.”

Lance blinks. “Huh?”

“You can fuck me,” Keith tells him, and with absolutely zero warning wraps his hand around Lance’s cock, sliding his thumb along the length slowly, considering.

“Really?” Lance stammers. “You sure you don’t just wanna do, like…this?”

“Handjobs?” Keith supplies, blunt as ever, still stroking his cock. “I thought you wanted to fuck me.”

“I mean, yeah, I do, totally,” and Lance is babbling now, but he’s _nervous_ and doesn’t know what he’s _doing_ and maybe didn’t think this through all the way. Also Keith’s hand feels amazing, just the right amount of rough and soft and warm and…Keith’s still wearing his gloves. Fuck. “I mean, you’re super hot, and I really like you, but, uh, we did just get in a big fight, and hurt each other a lot, and I don’t…”

“You’re not going to hurt me, Lance,” Keith says with certainty, and _maybe_ Lance should be insulted by that but instead he’s just relieved.

Then he frowns and says, “Shit, wait, we don’t have any space condoms or anything.”

“Well,” Keith says, drawing out the consonant too long, “we do have _something_.” Before Lance can question that, Keith hops up from the bed and Lance is so distracted by the first-class view of his ass as he bends over and rifles through one of the storage crates that he doesn’t hear a word Keith says after that. Keith is all pale soft skin interwoven with hard planes of muscle, flexing in his shoulders and lower back, body softer and curvier at his thighs and ass.

Then Keith exclaims, “A-ha!” and it’s adorable, he’s adorable, but then he holds up the bottle he’s found and Lance almost swallows his tongue.

“Is that _space lube_?!”

“Yep,” Keith says, sauntering back to the bed and tossing him the bottle. Lance fumbles with it; there are words on it written in an alphabet he’s never seen before, and when he cautiously pops the cap and looks inside, the substance is startlingly blue, like…mouthwash, but thicker. It smells like…bubblegum.

“Dude,” Lance says faintly. “I get that you’re adventurous and impulsive and shit but…how crazy do you have to be to find a bottle of alien substance and willingly put it up your ass?”

“I didn’t just _find_ it,” Keith retorts, snatching the bottle back, “Allura gave it to me.”

Lance chokes on air. “ _ALLURA GAVE YOU SPACE LUBE?!_ ”

Keith shrugs. “She had extra. We were talking about finding ways to relieve stress, and –”

“And the first thing that came to mind was masturbation,” Lance finishes. “Any other chats between you and Allura that I should know about?”

“Nope,” Keith says. “Hey, how about I ride you?”

Lance is going to die before he even gets to fuck Keith, at this rate. “Sure,” he croaks. “Whatever you want, buddy.”

“Cool,” Keith says, apparently appeased by the compromise, taking off his gloves and pouring some of the lube onto his fingers. “Okay, lay back down, and I’ll just…” Lance lies down and Keith swings a leg over him again, but this time he reaches back behind himself and Lance watches his face helplessly as Keith’s teeth catch his lower lip, sharp white digging into plush pink as he slides a finger inside himself. Keith’s gaze lifts to meet his, eyes dark and half-lidded, and there is something so intimate in it that Lance has to hold onto Keith’s curving hips, needs the contact between them.

Keith’s cock juts out over Lance’s, and Keith palms over it absently with his free hand as he rocks back on his finger, working it deeper. Lance’s cock throbs at the sight. His hands on Keith’s hips move inward, and Keith bites his lip harder when Lance’s fingers tangle with his own on his cock, figuring out what makes him squirm the most.

Keith’s uncut, with visible veins that Lance rubs his fingertips across, and a dark pink tip that spills beads of near-clear white onto Lance’s thumb as it sweeps over it. Lance thinks maybe Keith was right when he holds Keith’s cock in his hand; the heavier weight is pleasing on some deep, confusing level; satisfying when Keith’s hips push forward and fuck into Lance’s fist.

Lance can just barely see Keith’s hand from behind his balls, thinks he has two fingers worked in, and then Keith lets out a sharp gasp and rolls forward and Lance thinks, maybe three, now. He doesn’t want to tell Keith to hurry it up, he’s not _that_ guy, but Keith looks like a fucking wet dream come to life and Lance is legitimately worried about this being over before it even starts. Especially when Keith tips forward again and moves up so that Lance’s cock slides behind him, right up against his ass, Keith’s knuckles bumping into it as he stretches himself wider.

Lance’s nails bite into Keith’s skin. “Almost,” Keith whispers. “Ah – almost. Here, you can…” Keith clumsily shoves the bottle onto Lance’s chest. “Put it on your dick too, it’ll be easier.”

Lance nods and pours some into his palm, reaching out and blindly grasping his cock, groaning as he slicks himself up. The space lube is cool at first, then warm, startlingly so, almost tingling. Keith lets out a little moan in response to Lance’s sounds, shifting and exhaling as he pulls his fingers free and pins Lance with a determined yet desperate look. “You good?” Lance breathes, one hand still holding the base of his cock, the other around Keith’s. “Don’t feel like…you need to rush yourself, ‘kay?”

Keith nods jerkily. “I’m fine,” he says, rising up on his knees and tilting his body back. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Lance says, and _feels_ the head of his cock catch on Keith’s rim, Keith’s eyes widening as he sinks down; slow at first and then all at once, probably too fast, Lance doesn’t know; all he knows is that Keith is _tight_ and Lance’s cock has just found its new favorite place. “Keith,” he groans, voice pitching lower than he thought it could.

Keith makes a breathy, overwhelmed sound and rolls his hips, until Lance’s balls are flush with his ass and they’re both panting, both flushed, both trembling. Lance’s head thuds back onto the pillow when Keith lifts up and slides down again, friction sending jolts of pleasure up his spine and through his cock, buried inside Keith. Keith has a hand on Lance’s chest and a hand on Lance’s thigh behind him so he can arch every which way, hiccupping tiny moans, mouth slack.

“Are you – does it hurt?” Lance asks, smoothing his hand up Keith’s side, curling around his ribs and further up, to where his nipples are tight and pink and harden under Lance’s touch.

Keith shakes his head and continues to move, gaining confidence when Lance groans louder and pets at his sides and chest in a way he hopes is encouraging. Keith seems to like it, anyway, seems to like Lance’s hands on him if the way he twists his body harder onto his cock and swears in a filthy muttered litany to the ceiling. His abs bunch up and stretch as he moves, undulates, letting Lance jerk him off while he does the rest of the work.

Lance thrusts up into him a few times as Keith is lifting up and that makes Keith moan the loudest, his lashes fluttering and neck craning back, exposing the immaculate white column of his throat. Immaculate save for the dark freckles here and there, spots which Lance vows to mark with kisses later, but which he traces with fingertips for now. He wonders how they would look interspersed with bruises. Keith bruises so easily, after all.

Keith is getting close, hand stuttering on his cock and rolling motions growing more erratic and Lance is sitting up before he can talk himself out of it, saying, “Lean back, c’mon, I’ve got you, Keith,” and Keith has a wild look in his eyes but he _does_ , he leans back and cries out, shocked and wanting as Lance presses him down to the bed and fucks into him at the same pace Keith set earlier, but Lance knows it must feel different like this, maybe deeper or harder or fuller, he doesn’t know.

But as Keith squeezes his eyes shut and whines frantically, he really fucking wants to know.

Heels dig into his back when Keith bucks under him, writhing; Lance’s hand tightens on his cock while he leans down to Keith’s neck and mouths along it. Keith’s hands clutch at his back and uselessly at his hair, too short for a good grip, his scalp stinging when Keith tries anyway. Lance’s cock splits Keith open, he can see it from this angle, and his hips slap against Keith’s ass with every thrust, pressure and heat curling low in his gut as he speeds up and bites Keith’s neck, _close, close, close._

And then Keith comes with a gasp, pupils blown wide and one arm flung out to the side, the other draped over Lance’s shoulders. Lance feels it from inside Keith, too, and moans into his neck, hips still pumping through it as Keith clenches tighter around his cock, striping his stomach and chest with white splatters of cum. Keith shivers under him and lets out another whine, not pleasure this time but definite discomfort, and Lance reluctantly stops, looking down at him. “Too much, it’s too much,” Keith pleads, flapping a hand weakly.

Lance pulls out and draws in an unsteady breath; Keith stays where he is, legs spread, cock softening, looking flushed and slightly dazed. Lance holds the base of his cock tightly and tries to find his happy zen place instead of his _holy shit need to come right the fuck now_ place. It doesn’t really work, especially when Keith stretches luxuriously and sits up to look at him with soft, sleepy eyes and kiss-swollen lips.

“Sorry,” Keith murmurs, voice rough and rumbling, crawling over to Lance until they’re nose to nose. “You still need to come, huh?”

Lance huffs. “You gonna help me with that, or…ah!”

Keith pushes Lance down with a single finger on his chest, and Lance goes easily, staring at Keith between his legs. “Can I show you how it feels?” Keith asks, sliding his hand over Lance’s inner thigh, breath feathering across his skin. Lance swallows hard, legs unconsciously falling open wider, and a smirk tugs at the corner of Keith’s mouth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lance whispers, going tense at the press of Keith’s slick fingers just behind his balls, so sensitive that he feels like he’s going to burst if Keith so much as brushes against them. Keith makes a low, soothing sort of croon in the back of his throat and covers his fingers with lube again, and presses back and Lance’s spine buckles, toes curling at the intrusion, cock leaking a puddle of precum on his belly as Keith pushes his finger in up to the second knuckle, curls it slowly. There’s pressure and slight discomfort and it just feels _weird_ …but there’s something else, too, and Keith curls his finger again, searching for it.

“It feels so good, Lance,” Keith tells him, lowering his body until they’re pressed chest to chest, Keith’s lips inches from his, carefully angling his body away from Lance’s cock. “It feels so good I bet you could come just from my fingers inside of you.”

Lance is about to argue, about to say that it feels okay but what he’d really like is if Keith just touched his _dick_ already; but then Keith adds another finger and crooks the two of them and Lance jolts with a half moan, half yelp, hips jumping up from the bed as Keith rubs at his prostate and smirks down at him like the smug, gorgeous bastard he is. “Keith, fuck!” Lance gasps, cock twitching and spilling out another dribble of precum. There’s definitely never been this much before, Lance feels messy and dirty and so close to the edge that he’d pretty much do anything Keith wants him to.

Lance tells him as much and Keith clicks his tongue in faux sympathy, curling his fingers in and out in simulated fuck. “But you didn’t want me to fuck you earlier,” he says.

“Nngh, I said I’d consider switching, didn’t I?” Lance chokes out.

“You _said_ , it would be ‘pretty good’ if I fucked you instead,” Keith corrects, licking his lips as Lance squirms on his fingers and tries to reach down to touch himself. “No,” Keith growls, grabbing Lance’s right wrist and pressing it into the pillow above his head. Lance is so hard he’s dizzy. “Don’t touch yourself. All you get is this. Do you still think it would just be ‘pretty good,’ Lance?”

Lance is in bed with a madman. “Nooo,” he whimpers, hyperaware of his full, aching cock and the heat swelling between his legs as Keith’s fingers stretch and pull and push him open torturously. “It would be good, it would be really good, please, Keith, c’mon, you’re killing me!”

“Mm, that’s better,” Keith purrs. “It was really good when you fucked me, Lance. You’re good at it.”

Lance closes his eyes and _sobs_. “I want you to,” he begs. “I want you to fuck me, fuck, Keith, _Keith_!”

“Shhh,” Keith mumbles, and kisses him, fucking him with his fingers mercilessly, and Lance comes in a devastating rush of euphoria, mewling into Keith’s mouth and pulling at his hair with his free hand, cock pulsing between their bodies. “Shhh,” Keith says again as the kiss breaks, nuzzling his nose and kissing him softer, rolling until they’re both on their sides, tangled up in an embrace. Keith snuggles into him, and Lance remembers how to breathe again.

Keith looks like he’s about to fall asleep when Lance pulls away, and he takes a second to seriously marvel at how the guy can go from a hundred to zero so quick. Feeling Lance’s eyes on him, Keith’s eyes open and he blinks blearily, giving him a small, shy smile. “Hi,” he says.

_Don’t touch yourself. All you get is this._

Lance stares at him and thinks, _You are in so over your head with this one, Espinosa._

“Hey,” he says back. “So. That happened.”

“Mhm,” Keith says, and snuggles in closer to tuck his head under Lance’s chin. “You’re warm.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but your hair smells good,” Lance chuckles, turning his face into it. “Kinda citrusy.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Keith says, so earnest it hurts. He pauses, and adds, “I…I hope I didn’t freak you out or anything at the end, there. Did I freak you out?”

Lance pulls back a little and raises an eyebrow at him. “Well, did you really think I was so, like, macho and insecure that I _wouldn’t_ want you to fuck me?”

Keith frowns and sighs. “I dunno. I hoped you weren’t. It doesn’t really matter, you know? Who fucks who, I mean. Just…some people make it out to be a whole power dynamic, thing, and I don’t…I don’t want anything like that.”

“Agreed,” Lance says, and Keith relaxes against him. “Although, couldn’t help but notice you really liked being on top.”

Keith blushes. “Maybe,” he hedges. “But I thought you liked it, too.”

“Maybe,” Lance admits, both of them smiling and giggling a little. “You did get a little carried away, but…it was pretty hot. And…boys will be boys, right?”

Keith snorts. “I don’t think that’s what that phrase means, Lance.”

“I like this meaning better,” Lance says, taking Keith’s wrist in his hand gently, watching Keith’s eyes widen as he kisses it where he had broken it before, a silent apology that says more than words ever could.

“Yes,” Keith whispers, fingers ghosting over his ribs like flower petals. “I do, too.”


End file.
